(5 years later and many moons later....)
After the holy empire of Sanbrque broke the truce and attacked Rosaria, it set of a cascade of events. As soon as Dhalmekia heard of this betrayal they severed all ties with the empire and set up a trade Embargo against them. The holy empire, ever so greedy for land did not take too kindly to this and declared war against the republic. At the same time, as the empire saw more and more land being wrested away from it and with the warden of light Bahamut at the helm it became increasingly more expansionist and looked to its east, declaring war against the kingdom of Waloed for more fertile lands.
The traitorous duchess of Rosaria, Anabella married the emperor of Sanbreque soon after. As the sole survivor of the former duchy, she was given a high title to strengthen her position as empress, within the empire. As for Rosaria, it was annexed by the holy empire shorty after the fall of Phoenix gate and became an imperial province of the empire. After Phoenix gate fell, Rosaria was raided by the Iron Kingdom who had sensed an opportunity. They had killed all the men and took many women and children back to their Isles. The former duchy now faces its darkest times, with lives of its citizens bleak, especially so, under the rule of Anabella.
Now as the three great powers wage war against each other, Clive finds himself in a quest for revenge, to avenge his brother by finding the dominant Ifrit.
Clive jolted awake. He groaned in pain from his head and his back. He had fallen from his hammock as the ship lurched violently sea. The timbers sounded as if they would break at any time against the relentless assault of the storm. The stench of stale sweat and seasickness hung heavy in the air, a grim companion to the dim light filtering through a nearby porthole. Squinting through the gloom, he saw figures huddled on hammocks and makeshift beds, faces etched with worry beneath the flickering lantern light He pushed himself upright, the ship's roll sending him swaying. Peeking out a nearby hatch, a wave of salt-laced spray crashed against his face, momentarily blinding him. Sputtering, he instinctively stepped back, wiping his stinging eyes, "The storm is worst than yesterday We must be nearing the Iron Isles," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the howling wind "
He turned back and sat down, leaning on a barrel of fresh water. The quarters was packed with men and women all fleeing the mainland in search of a new beginning in the Iron Kingdom, a land untouched by the blight.
Beside him Biast, a close friend slept peacefully. Clive wondered, " How can he sleep through this storm? "
Clive had met Biast three years ago. they were both orphans at that point. Biast hailed from Twinside. A sergeant of the branded, Tiamat took them both under his wing and trained them and cared for them. Since then the three of them took parr in various missions and assignments for the holy empire. As much as Clive hated this, it was the only way for him to survive. Over the years Clive had grown very close to Biast, seeing him as a brother of sorts.
A sudden thump against the hull of the ship, far louder than the storm's fury, jolted everyone awake. smashed straight into an old man's abdomen, crushing him instantly. His screams were quickly silenced, swallowed by the relentless wind.
" We must be nearing Alfos. How can they even dock at the port in this storm, let alone unload the cargo and passengers?" "
As his eyes fell upon a young boy and a girl, memories flooded him. Rosaria, his brother, The last time he had with Julia, Jill. It brought him a great deal of pain. Everything was so peaceful until his mother brought ruin upon everything. Clive lost everything and everyone he loved, in one night.
The ship continued its harrowing journey, tossed about like a toy in the grip of a giant. Clive spent the next few hours in a restless daze, the rhythmic thudding of waves against the hull a constant counterpoint to the pounding in his head. His thoughts were interrupted when a familiar voice spoke, "Looks like a rough landing, Clive," came a voice from beside him. It was Biast, who was now wide awake from the earlier shake.
Clive stretched, muscles protesting the cramped quarters. "looks that way. i am just glad we didn't have to deal with this during the journey across the open sea. Did you rest well ? "
Biast chuckled, Clive could barely hear him in the howl of the wind, . "Not really, this ship creaks like an old man with every wave even on the calmest day." He gestured at the groaning timbers overhead
Clive chuckled in agreement.
After a few more moments Clive could now see the islands in sight. Clive asked, " Where are we supposed to meet the sergeant ? "
Biast replied, " Some tavern near the port. someone would be there to meet us "
Clive who was nervous whispered, " I see...."
Biast who sensed this patted him on his shoulder, " Don't be so nervous. Just relax and enjoy. "
Clive found the statement to be ironic, considering the daunting task ahead of them. Before he could reply a booming voice echoed through the cramped space, momentarily silencing the murmurs of the crowd. "Alright you lot, rise and shine! We're nearing Alfos." The speaker, a hulking man with a thick beard and a scarred eye, stood silhouetted in the hatchway. He wore a worn leather jerkin over chainmail.
A flurry of activity followed. Men scrambled to their feet, securing belongings and checking weapons – simple axes and swords that looked well-used. Clive turned to Biast, " We should get moving "
Biast replied, " Agreed, we wouldn't want to keep the sergeant waiting "
Clive nodded in agreement and they walked over to the back of the group gathered near the hatch leading to the exit.
Biast nudged Clive with his elbow, "Wouldn't want the fellow to think we be milksops, would we now? Besides, I hear the air on the Iron Isles is enough to set a young buck's spirit alight, even one weighed down by a touch of first-raid jitters." He winked, an attempt at nonchalance despite the tremor in his hand.
The hulking man's voice cut through the chatter once more. "Form ranks, you scurvy lot! We make a proper landing, not a flock of startled hens!" , his voice a gravelly rasp seasoned with the salt of countless sea voyages. Clive and Biast followed the men towards the narrow hatchway, the moment they stepped out the rain immediately hit them like a slap in the face. The sky thundered the ship violently buffeted by the waves, slamming repeatedly against the sea wall.
The deck of the ship was full of activity, The crew were hurriedly unloading the cargo and the passengers in the brief moments of calmness of the sea. In the distance, jagged black cliffs rose from a churning sea, their peaks shrouded in a veil of mist. After a few more minutes they got off the ship, narrowly escaping death falling into the crevice between the ship and the sea wall.
The moment they set foot on the land, they were greeted with a rather unexpected sight.